


quandaries

by syscheckAIDAN



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Reader Has A Name, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sort of a Fix-It of Sorts, actually reader is almost kind of an oc? i just don't like y/n l/ns, also Not Compliant with anything that happened after 2015 i dont wanna hear it, congrats your name is now rivera, i zoned out watching civil war and never zoned back in, it got too complicated for me, mostly in that ultron is pretty and shaped like a friend and should b treated as such
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syscheckAIDAN/pseuds/syscheckAIDAN
Summary: You're an Avenger, and you're there when the cracks really start forming between the group. A lot of things are happening very fast. and you don't know if Tony was right or not to do what he did, but you were always good at picking one thing to focus on and holding on through the rest.Right now, your focus is on Ultron. Someone has to handle him with grace, after all, and no one else is volunteering.
Relationships: Ultron (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Ultron (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 252





	quandaries

**Author's Note:**

> i just don't KNOW but i read SnarkyBadger's "It's the End of the World as We Know It" and it gave me Major Ultron Emotions. gotta friendmance this shiny dude.   
> like. friend romance not like friend necromancy  
> but also kind of that bc i refused the part where he died like no, you come back  
> so! this. lets hope it goes somewhere

You liked to think of yourself as having a modest place in the Avengers: strong enough to assist with civilian protection in the field, and smart enough to have the occasional place in the lab alongside Bruce and Tony. Jack of all trades and master of none, that was you – of course, considering your expertise in robotics design, that didn’t ring as true as you liked to let on. You shuffled around the Tower in mismatched socks and warm jackets at noon and went at punching bags in the gym harder than an angry magpie two hours later, and when you sat curled up reading and got asked about the material you chose, you said things like “epic Star Wars fanfic” instead of “Doctor Cho’s latest report.” Hard to read, that was your goal – but try as you did to be puzzling and distant, you could only really commit to the former.

The Avengers, to your surprise, somehow wormed their way under your skin and into your heart, and you had to admit that you’d drop almost anything for a night in watching cult classics with the group. The team was really mostly just that – a team. Friends, you could even go so far as to say. You were fond of them, and you knew they liked you, and there was something to be said about the way you all trusted each other enough to fall asleep in each other’s presences post-credit reel.

Friends, yes. But given the amount of secrets that still existed, the arguments that occasionally sparked, the imperfect communication… just that. Not _bonded,_ truly. Not family.

And you didn’t mind. There was… comfort, in having this closeness with other people without the too-raw intimacy of vulnerability. You didn’t have to tell Cap that the knee you got shattered after being held at a HYDRA outpost for half a week still hurt terribly whenever you were afraid, even after it healed. You didn’t have to confide in Thor that sometimes, when he would absentmindedly hum old Asgardian songs, some of the notes would twist and catch in your chest and you had to slip away to cry.

You didn’t know everything about each other, but you didn’t need to, did you?

Everything always worked out, in the end.

The battles and the recon and the injuries, and the yelling matches that would explode every time; the casualties, though you did your best to mitigate them and you were _sure_ that your presence on the field made a difference. The exhaustion, going home in the Quinjet, too beat for even the simplest banter.

You told yourself over and over that this was sustainable; the Avengers were all adults, after all, and the stress? You could _handle_ it. The moments of closeness made it worth it, didn’t they? You could still clearly remember the twin looks of shock on Bruce and Tony’s faces, the day you realized that they didn’t think so. The day the team brought home Loki’s scepter; the day the team hit Sokovia hard searching for it.

To be fair, you weren’t exaggerating when you called your position on the team “modest.” You knew them, they knew you, of course – but you had a talent for going unnoticed, slipping between the cracks. It didn’t matter that you dressed in bright colors and actually had a real motormouth once people actually settled in to talk to you. Didn’t matter that you made it a point to exchange words with everyone at least once. For the most part, you blended right in with the wall furnishings, and it was for that reason that you managed to walk in on the science boys when they were discussing their secret project.

“So who came up with this Ultron idea?” you asked, standing in the doorway with a tray of coffee in your hands. “My money’s on Stark.” Tony was the first to recover, throwing his hands up and serving Bruce a wildly exasperated look.

“Oh, son of a –”

“Stark?” you asked, sensing impending deflection. “Whatever project this is, it sounds to me like it concerns the whole team.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered. Then, to you: “Look, you want something, right? Say the word, put it on my tab.”

“We already put everything on your tab.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Offer stands, okay? This stays under wraps, not kidding.”

“Oh, got it. Bribery. Smooth, Tony.” You balanced the tray on your hip, tilting your head to examine him and Banner, who looked more than a little twitchy at having been caught. “But don’t worry. I literally just came to bring caffeine – and I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Relief poured out of Tony in a long sigh. “See? Didn’t I tell you how great she was, Banner?” (“No?” Bruce said.) “I knew I could always count on you.”

“One thing, though.”

“Huh.”

“This project? I want in. Even if it’s just grunt work or being a glorified coffee girl. I’ve already got a head start on that part, see? I’m not the type to gossip regardless, but if I’m working alongside you both? That guarantees my silence.”

You absently reached for your Styrofoam cup and took a long pull. Mm. Strong. When you spoke, your tone brokered no argument.

“Tell me about your AI,” you said.  
  


* * *

oOo

* * *

This whole wasn’t going to go over well with the others, if it worked at all.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said offhandedly, a day later and with better understanding of the situation, like this wasn’t a matter graver than most and like Tony wasn’t taking the entire team’s future into his grabby science hands. You raised your eyes to search his face from where you sat crisscross on the lab floor, sleepy green against wry brown, and he met your gaze head-on. Of course, he did – stubborn as can be, Tony Stark. “About Ultron.”

The number of failed tests was wearing on the billionaire, and you could read the stiffness in his shoulders even before he scoffed and spoke.

“Huh. Funny, because last I checked, thinking about Ultron was what Banner and I were doing. So are you gonna start doing the share you strong-armed us into giving you any time soon? Because I’ve got some grunt work needs doing while I hash out these algorithmic functions…”

It was a mixture of things woven through his voice – stress, frustration. The worn-out rasp of a man who’d been spending a lot of sleepless nights working through a quandary. Tony, for all he pretended to be the lax billionaire, never parted with his protective sarcasm and barbs. It could have been just tension; it was more likely that he felt genuinely under threat, and so needed his guard up all the time. If you were just a bit closer to him, closer than _‘we run into each other in the kitchen at 3 a.m. seeking a snack and some espresso, and when that happens you can’t help but talk,’_ then you would ask him why. You’d ask what horrors he saw behind his eyes at night to make him turn to this.

There was a part of you that felt the sting of Tony’s sharp tongue; it was the part of you that wondered if, maybe, you were just a bit closer to him, he would listen to you instead of brushing you off. If you had worked harder on reaching out to everyone, on drawing them closer together, on seeking out real bonds instead of superficial closeness, could this be the moment where things could have started happening differently?

_I’ve been thinking,_ you could have said, in another world.

_Cute. Hit me,_ he would have shot back, eyes on a screen. But something would have sunk in through that half-invested façade, would have creased his brows and hardened his mouth, but also made something in his eyes light with reluctant understanding.

_This is a person you’re wanting to bring into the world, Stark – as much of a person as Jarvis is, and we all see Jarvis as part of the team, you know that. I’m not disputing that we need help. We do, because this job is tough now and it’s only going to get harder as time passes. Just think about it, though. Think about what you’re asking this program to do. Save the world? Protect mankind? Bring about an age of peace? Hell, Tony. I’d curl up in the fetal position and stay there if I was suddenly saddled with a to-do list like that. And even then, I’d still have a leg up on algorithmic processing, because I wouldn’t get caught in a quandary loop the second things couldn’t be cleanly resolved. I don’t think heuristics change just because they’re running on a fancier computer. There are so many conflicting conditions there, this little guy is going to crash within the first_ day, _alien upgrades or not._ _Think about this. Narrow it down. We can’t have it all, yet, but we can work toward it…_

You looked into Tony’s eyes, searching that brilliant brown, and found a mind full of nothing you could begin to comprehend. You dropped your gaze. The better possibility fractured and splintered, just beyond your reach. Here, Tony was watching you expectantly, waiting for an answer. He wouldn’t wait much longer.

_Maybe this could have been better._

“I…” It wasn’t often you found yourself lost for words. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” It wasn’t often you found yourself setting your jaw against the sudden stinging in your eyes. It shouldn’t have felt as badly as it did to be shut down so quickly – it happened all the time with him, just the way he was. It also shouldn’t have felt like the world was falling apart, but you couldn’t get a handle on _why._ What was different about this? “Just say what you want done.”

You glanced up, just for a second. Enough to see the slightly stricken expression on Tony’s face. Your genuine hurt must have shone through clearly for a half-moment, long enough for him to realize that that may not have been the best response on his part.

Too late, though – and his pride was no small deal to him. He could have asked; he let it drop instead, though not before the surprise softened his tone just a little.

“Uh, yeah. Come on. I have some tools I left a floor up.”

It didn’t escape you that he insisted on going with you to retrieve the tools, even after his snipe about having work to do. It showed that, in his own clumsy way, he was sorry for the jab, enough to spare a couple minutes. It was enough to make you feel a little awkward, too.

The next evening, the program would successfully complete its integration, and no one would be in the lab to see it. The next evening, the world really would fall apart, and you would learn that as sorry as Tony felt for small hurts, he could feel much worse.


End file.
